Everything
by PrincessZeldaBelle
Summary: *Finished* Rick and Evy's falling out opens a path to some old aquaintances.
1. Find me here

Everything

A/N ~ The idea of this story comes from The Mummy Improv, #2 ( http://tmimprov.cjb.net/ ).  Also, Buffelyn is partially to blame here…for the first person / present tense stuff (don't keep me waiting on Crisis girl...I'm gonna go mad!)  Yes, I'm still working on Bolero and the next Normal Life story, but I needed a bit of a break from those.  Let me know what you think...I've not tried the present tense thing before.

Disclaimer ~ I own nothing...

Chapter 1

Find me here 

_Speak to me  
I want to feel you_

I need to hear you  
                        ~ Everything, Jason Wade 

One never knows what they've been missing until they finally find it...and then lose it all over again.  Indeed, my world turned upside-down in an instant – the moment Jonathan pulled that key from his pocket, I had little idea what was about to become of my happy, quaint little existence.  Made all the happier in a heartbeat.  And then...well...I suppose some things just aren't meant to be.  But then, who am I to judge what is meant to be?  I know quite well that my judgment is clouded by the cold, empty bed I continue to wake up to; hoping every morn that I'll awake to find that arm around me, telling me it had all been but a miserable dream.  Not so, I'm afraid.  And I do try everything in my power to keep that awful bitterness from consuming me, but having one's heart ripped out and danced upon tends to embitter some.  Sadly, I am no exception.  All the while, half of me loathes myself for wanting to hate him.  That half of me still holds on to a fading pinpoint of hope that perhaps it had all been a misunderstanding.  Everyday, that ideal fades more, leaving only the bitterness in the cold London fog.

The British Museum's library is no different from that of Cairo's, except for the great number of books not dealing with Ancient Egypt.  And of course, that was the only opening available at the time.  They want an expert, one of the Bembridge Scholars, to head up the Egypt collection.  Of course, no one believes a word about the Hamunaptra dig, or anything else that had transpired there either.  Had I not lived it myself, I too would be skeptical.  And though I know otherwise, I don't bother to push the issue. After all, Jonathan and I are the only two respectable people who returned from there alive.  And who was going to believe the ramblings of a lush and a woman?

To celebrate our return to the motherland, as Jonathan calls it, he insists on taking me to dinner at a charming little restaurant.  Under other circumstances, I might have enjoyed the idea, but tonight is no exception from any other night in the last two months. Despite all of my begging, I find myself sitting at a little table beside the dance floor.

"Isn't this fabulous, ol' mum?" Jonathan asks, swaying to the music.  I try to look out the window several tables away, avoiding the site of the happy couples that dance nearby.  They laugh and spin, as though to rub in my face what I have so recently lost.

"Yes, fabulous," I reply half-heartedly.

"Would you like to dance?" I glance over at the chipper voice beside my brother.  Jonathan grins at me, taking the redhead by the hand.

"Oh, Jonathan, don't you leave me here alone!" I call after him, but he's quickly lost to the sea of dancers.  I sigh heavily, resting the weight of my head on my hand.  "Bring me here and then leave me to fend for myself," I murmur under my breath.

"Well, you do that well enough."  The voice behind me makes my heart stop.  I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't speak.  All I know is that voice behind me inspires the very heavens to sing and the burning anger in the pit of my stomach to boil over.  I finally find the strength to turn around, my eyes narrowing.  "Hiya, Beautiful," he says with a lopsided grin.

"O'Connell," I hiss, "what part of 'I never want to see you again' did you not understand?"

"Dance with me," he says, holding out his hand, ignoring my question.

"You think you can just waltz right in here and assume I'm going to leap back into your arms as though nothing happened?"  I stand up, grabbing my handbag off the back of the chair.  I try to push past him, but he grabs my arm, pulling me back to him.  God, he smells wonderful.  

What am I thinking??

"Evelyn, just shut up and dance with me," he says quietly, glancing past me.  "If you think I came all this way just to dance with you, you'd only be half right."  Part of me wants to slap him; the other part wants to turn around to see what he's looking at, but something in his eyes tells me to trust him, for just a moment.

"All right," I say.  "You get one dance.  And if I'm not entirely convinced by the end of this song, then—"  But I can't finish my sentence as I'm dragged out onto the dance floor.  He takes my hand in his, looking me in the eyes as he starts to move with the crowd.  Of course this song would happen to be slower than the rest have been.  I have to slow my breathing, force myself to think straight.  The only way this is going to happen is if I avoid his crystalline eyes.  "So, then, what did you come all of this way for?" 

"There are a couple of men after you," he says finally.

"Oh, are you jealous?" I ask.

"Hardly," he replies.  I push him away, infuriated.  He grabs my hand, pulling me back.  "That's not what I meant, Evy.  These guys have intentions of kidnapping you."  I glance at him skeptically.

"And just how do you know this?"

"Old connections."

"Old connections, indeed," I reply.

"Evelyn, I'm not playing around.  I wouldn't have come all this way for a joke."

"Well, you obviously didn't come all this way for me," I shoot back.  This time, it's his turn to push away, stopping in the middle of the dance floor.

"You know, these last two months, I keep wondering what it was that I did to mess up the best damn thing that ever happened to me.  Now I'm beginning to wonder if it wasn't just me.  Dammit, Evelyn, I came back here to help you and possibly make amends and maybe, just maybe win you back, but if you can't believe me for five minutes, I guess I'll be leaving."  I stand there, dumbfounded, watching him make his way through the crowded dance floor.  What am I doing?  Now I know I've lost my mind as my feet begin to follow him, picking up speed as I lose site of him.

"Rick?" I call, but my timing is awful, as the band finishes, and the crowd clapping drowns my calls.  "Rick, wait!"  I run out the door, glancing up and down the wet street to see a tall figure walking away briskly.  I start to run after him, but suddenly feel myself pulled back.  A hand wraps around my mouth as another arm pins my arms down at my sides.  Without thinking, I dig my heel into my captor's foot, throwing my elbow back hard.  "Rick!" I scream, trying to run, but another pair of hands latch onto me, followed by a sharp pain in the back of my head.  I try desperately to hang on to the light, but my vision tunnels and I remember nothing past the ground speeding toward me.


	2. You are the light

Everything

Disclaimer ~ As of 6:14 PM PST on November 6, 2002, I still own nothing.

Thanks to all who reviewed.

  
  


Chapter 2

You are the light 

_That is leading me_

_To the place where  
I find peace again_

A sense of movement jars me awake, but more so, it's the pounding in my head that reminds me of what happened.  I try to rub my head, but quickly realize my hands are bound behind my back.

"Hey, I think she's awake," I hear a voice say.  I try to open my eyes, the light causing my head to pound harder.

"Then knock her out again," another voice states.

"Well, she ain't gunna do us no good with her head all bashed in," the first says.  I finally force my eyes open enough to take in my surroundings: shoved in with some shipping crates in the back of an airplane.

"Where are you taking me?" I demand.

"To help us get rich," the first says with a toothless grin.  He stands up, sauntering back to me.

"How am *I* supposed to do that?"

"Well, you've been to Hamunaptra.  So you're gunna show us how ta' get there."

"And just what makes you think I can remember how to get there?"  He grins at me again; enough to send shivers down my spine.

"Oh, I'll make sure you remember," he says, flashing his gun in my face.  I watch him walk back up to the cockpit, praying inwardly that someone noticed I was gone from the restaurant.  We are certainly half way to Cairo by now, judging by the early morning sun seeping in through the windows.   I rest my head uncomfortably against the crates, trying not to let my mind wander too much.  But regardless of how I try, my mind keeps coming back to one thought.

This is a one-way trip.

"Now don't you go tryin' nothing," he says, waving his dagger in my face.  He reaches for my legs, grabbing my ankles roughly as he slices away the ropes.  Pulling me to my feet, he cuts away the ropes binding my wrists, sticking the point of his blade into my back.  "No funny business.  Me blade has a mind of its own, and makes no quarrel about diggin' into a pretty lady's back."  He guides me off the plane, into the blazing sun of the airstrip, just outside of Cairo.  "Khepri, where're the camels?" he asks loudly.

"Whad'ya mean 'where're the camels?'" the pilot calls from the plane, stepping out into the blazing sun.  It's only now that I realize, beside his name, our pilot is Egyptian.  "Where in the name of Anubis are the camels?"

"Funny, now why hadn't I thought to ask that?"

"Oh, shut up, Rikes," Khepri says.  "They musta run off." I want to make a comment about camels not being smart enough, but I bite my tongue.  Seems that my captors haven't a camel's sense between the two of them.  "I told you not to leave them here.  But no, you thought it would be a good idea.  Save us time going into the suks and buying some."  I rest my case.  "Now we're out sixty pounds, and three camels!"  Rikes grimaces at his partner's back, but says nothing to him.

"Come on, you," he says, emphasizing his point with his blade.

As we enter the crowded suks of Cairo, two thoughts form in my head.  One is to pry my arm loose from Rikes and run like mad into the crowd.  The other is to stay put and hope that Jonathan perhaps noticed my disappearance, since O'Connell obviously could care less.  After all, he did say these were old friends of his.  I had only vaguely imagined the company he had once kept.  Never before, and certainly not since our parting, had I ever imagined I would be meeting any of them.  I suppose there had been a time, even in its briefest moment, that I had envisioned learning everything of his past.  He had assured me, however, that some details of one's past are best left dead and buried.  It can certainly be said that he went digging up his past.  How else would these two have known about my connection to Hamunaptra?

We stop at a rather large booth with a pen of camels lingering in the rear, Rikes holding onto me as Khepri haggles with the booth owner.  As the money changes hands, Rikes becomes distracted at the hundred pounds being handed over, and I opt for plan A, planting my heel once more into his foot.  His grip loosens just enough for me to pull away and I take off in a sprint.  My only chance is to make it deep into the twists of the suks, then duck into some ritzy British hotel.  Or, if I am so lucky, make it as far as Fort Brydon, though that is even less likelier than making it to a hotel.  Khepri and Rikes aren't far behind me, shouting at me to stop, as though I would.  I make a quick turn down a smaller street.  The crowd has grown thicker, and I am forced to slow up, unable to push my way through the mass of people.  I can see the two coming up from behind, shouting and waving their guns in the faces of those surrounding them, parting the sea of people like Moses.  I try to push through further, but the sudden feel of round, cold steel in my back causes me to stop, straightening up stiffly.

"That's far enough, missy," Rikes says behind me.  He grabs my arm, dragging me back through the crowd.  For a moment, my eyes land on a figure through the horde, and I swear it's Jonathan, but in a blink, he's nowhere to be found, and I convince myself I am just imagining things.  Even if he had figured what had happened to me, there was no chance he would be here so soon.

"For the last time," I say as the force me up atop one of the disgruntled camels, "before we go traipsing off to the middle of nowhere, I don't remember how to get there.  I wasn't the one leading."

"Well, you'd best start remembering then, huh?" Rikes says, taking the tethers of my camel.  "Else it's a long walk back."


	3. You are the strength

Everything 

Thanks to Marcher, She's a Star, and Queen Brunette!  And sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up…had some family problems to deal with, but all is better for the time being, so on with the story…

Chapter 3

You are the strength 

_That keeps me walking_

_You are the hope_

_That keeps me trusting_

The sun is slowly beginning to set on the western horizon.  It has only been half a day in the blazing desert sun, yet I can feel my skin has a rather warm, pink tone to it.  It won't be long before I look like a beet with hair.  With my hands bound before me, I try in vain to push my scraggly hair out of my eyes, wincing slightly as I realize that even my shoulders have burned through the thin fabric of my blouse.

"We should stop soon," Rikes says.  I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze.

"No," answers Khepri.  "I'm not risking her running off again."

"Where am I going to go?"

"I've heard that one before," the Egyptian spits.  "Your lover, as a matter of fact."

"He's not my 'lover'," I hiss through clinched teeth.

"He put up one hell of a fight too," Rikes chimes in, ignoring me.  "Damned bloody Americans usually do."

"What do you mean?" I ask quietly.  Not that I really wanted to hear anything more about O'Connell, but something in me forced the words out before I realized what I was saying.

"Some people just can't be beaten into submission," Khepri says.

"Yeah, and you're much easier to deal with," Rikes says with a yellowed grin.  He pulls my camel closer to his, placing his grimy hand on my knee.  "In more ways than one."  He adds, just before I take my bound hands, knocking him from his camel.  He hits the sand with a heavy thud, words I won't repeat escaping his cracked lips.  In front of us, Khepri laughs, turning his camel around.  Rikes leaps to his feet, grabbing the waistband of my skirt, pulling me to the sand.  Grabbing my hair, he rips my head back, ignoring Khepri's calls to stop.  It isn't until the Egyptian fires his gun into the air that Rikes turns, catching that the barrel of the gun now points at him.

"Don't make me shoot you, Rikes," he says.  "It won't do me any good to have either of you dead."

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Rikes says before he turns back to me.  He grins once more, kissing me forcefully; his breath alone is enough to make me nauseous, never mind his tongue in my mouth.  He throws me to the sand, chuckling as he saunters over to his camel.  "We settin' up camp here," he declares.  Khepri simply rolls his eyes, dismounting his camel.  "Besides, where she goin' on foot? Ain't nothin' but sand for miles."

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly the burning day of the desert turns to a frigid night.  I sit near the fire, as far from my captors as I can manage with the rope tying me to all three camels attached to the bindings around my ankles.  I draw my legs up close to me, wrapping my arms over them, doing what little I can to block out the cold.  Thankfully, Rikes is asleep, giving Khepri the first watch.

I notice the Egyptian staring at me, and try as I might, I can't ignore him any longer. "What?" I finally say.

"I can see why you caught O'Connell's eye," he says with a slight slur.  I glance away from him, not really caring to hear his theories.  "Of course, what you saw in O'Connell is what confuses me."

"I don't want to talk about it," I say, staring into the flames that lick the night sky.

"He's a backstabbing bastard," he continues, completely ignoring me.  "He has no morals, no ethics..."

"Oh, and I suppose you do?"

"Of course I do," he says, slamming his bottle into the sand.  "I wouldn't lead a couple of kidnappers to my woman."  I wanted to snap about not being O'Connell's 'woman,' but I couldn't get a word in edgewise as he prattled on.  "The low-life pig that has the nerve to call himself a man wouldn't even hold up his end of a bargain.  And that's why you're—"

"Enough!"  I can't take much more of the bashing, and yet, I can't understand why I wouldn't want to join in on it.  After all, I had called him everything Khepri had under my breath at one time or other, but ... I don't know.  Why can't I get that man out of my head and move on with my life?!  The answer is simple – I just don't want to believe it.

My attention is suddenly caught by the sound of a bell; the sound is low and distant, and though I try not to flinch at I, Khepri hears it too.  He draws his gun, standing haphazardly.  "Stay here," he orders as he walks into the blackness surround the roaring fire.  My eyes follow him, and the sound of the bell draws closer.  But it's no longer the bell that concerns me.  My hair is picked up in the sudden breeze.  I hold my breath, praying inwardly it was a random draft wafting through the desert...but the draft continues, picking up in strength, bring along small grains of sand.  I chance a look in the general direction of the wind; the moon that had been rising slowly in the east has now turned to a deep brown, soon to be nothing there at all…...

A storm is coming.


	4. You are the life to my soul

Everything

Rated PG 13

Disclaimer – I own nothing.

Thanks to Buff (yeah, I've done it too :), Alena, and Natters and anyone else who has read it.  Enjoy the last chapter...

Chapter 4

You are the life to my soul 

_You are my purpose_

_You are everything_

Rikes screams into the wind, but his words are lost in the grit that fills the air.  Khepri has now disappeared, after going to look for the source of the mysterious bell; the storm came up faster than I had ever thought possible.

My solitary captor runs headlong into the darkness as the flames of our meager campfire begin to dwindle and die.  I attempt to untie my leash; fear of drowning in sand has become quite the reality.   My bound hands fumble with the ropes, my light fading quickly as the winds impossibly grow harder, launching bits of sand into my eyes.  My skin stings with each tiny needle that drives into me, and it isn't a moment too soon that the knot finally loosens.  But the next impeding question:  Where am I to go?  We are still easily days from Hamunaptra, and I can't recall having seen any caves nearby.  My only chance lies within the blankets astride the camels, as awful as they smell.  Scrambling to my feet in the heavy wind, I stumble my way to the panicking camels, pulling a blanket from one's back.  Wrapping it around myself, I start for the ground, but find that I'm stopped well before I should hit.  I know I'm slightly disoriented from the high winds and sand in my eyes, but the distinct feeling of movement soon follows.  Someone, or something, has seen fit to cart me off somewhere, though from within my putrid confines, heaven only knows who or what has me, and where we are off to.

I find, the hard way, it's best not to struggle, as it only allows the sand into the blanket.  So I wait, until I reach whatever the destination might be.  But it isn't a long wait, as the winds suddenly sound distant and echoed (though the ringing in my ears could be playing a part in the distortion of the sound.)  I feel myself set down on my side, and rather unceremoniously unrolled from the blanket, rolling to a stop face up the legs of a man far better dressed than either of my captors, the firelight bouncing off the cave walls and khakis.  "Evelyn! Oh, thank God!" Jonathan cries out as he kneels beside me, producing a small switchblade from his trousers.  Usually, I am not terribly fond of the sight of that thing, but at the moment, it is one of the most welcomed sights I have ever laid eyes on, besides my brother of course, who has started in on the ropes binding my wrists.  As soon as my wrists are free, I throw my arms around my brother's neck.  He returns the hug, but soon says with a chuckle, "Yes, well, all fine and good, but don't thank me, ol' mum."  I pull away, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.  I follow his eyes to the two men I had not noticed prior:  Ardeth Bay nods to me as he continues to brush sand from his robes, and the American, hiding in shadows untouched by the warmth of the fire.  My body tenses, the crystal eyes averting mine at first, but soon, neither of us can look away.  "Right, so..." Jonathan starts.  "I'm just going...to go...stand in a corner and look inconspicuous," he blurts out.  "Care to join me, Ardeth?" The warrior nods, but the action is lost on me as the two men make their way into the shadows, causing me to forget they're even here.  My eyes don't leave O'Connell.  They can't.  Try as I might, his gaze has me entranced.

"Hi," he finally says.

"Hello," I reply, trying to hold myself together. After all, wasn't he the one that I've spent the last two months trying desperately to forget about?  "What are you doing here?" I finally ask.

"Waiting out the sandstorm?" he states as though it were painfully obvious, motioning his head toward the opening of the cave.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Do you really want me to say it, Evelyn?" he shoots, his voice raising.  "Fine.  I'll say it.  Saving your ungrateful ass." I draw myself up to my full height, glancing across the bridge of my nose toward him.  I certainly am not about to shed a tear in front of this man.

"Is that what you want?" I say calmly, though inside I'm tearing apart.  "Because, if so, I'm certain you will be aptly rewarded when we return to London."  He glances toward me, the pain I hadn't quite noticed before now very much apparent in his eyes.

"Do you really think that's why I went to London?  Why I came after you now?  Did you ever stop to think for one minute that I might have been coming to apologize? Or are you too stubborn to see that?"  I clinch my jaw, trying to keep the hot tears from spilling over.  I scramble precariously to my feet, turning my back to him as I try to put as much distance between us as is possible within the small cave.  I hear him come up quickly behind me, but I refuse to acknowledge him until I have little choice as he spins me around, his hands gripping my arms, forcing me to look at him.  "Damnit, Evelyn, look at me when I talk to you."  His teeth are clinching and he's all but growling as he stares down at me, his eyes flashing.

"I am not a child for you to order around, _Mister_ O'Connell," I hiss, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens around my arms painfully.

"No, but maybe you'll listen if I treat you like one. 'Cause you sure are acting like one."

"I'm not the one who was throwing insults around about another's parents!"  There.  I had said it.

"Did you ever think that maybe I was jealous?"

"Jealous?!" Jonathan says from his dark corner.

"Shut up, Jonathan," O'Connell and I say in unison.  I feel the tears prickling at my eyes, and I blink furiously, trying to put everything into place, and keep the tears from spilling over.

"Jealous?" I repeat my brother's words, though my apparent disconcerted thoughts must have been showing through as he releases his stanch grip on my arms, though his hands linger.

"Yeah," he says softly, his eyes avoiding mine once more.  "It took me a long time to realize it, but yeah. All your talk about your parents had nearly driven me insane with jealousy.  It's hard enough going through your whole damn life thinking your parents didn't want you, but then to have someone going on and on about how wonderful theirs had been...  It's stupid, I know."  He turns away from me; I reach for him, but don't have the strength to actually touch him.  Had this whole thing really been about jealousy?  Maybe I had carried on too much.  But how could I have known?  He hadn't mentioned anything about it before...I had only assumed...  "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry for what I said.  I was sorry for it the minute it left my mouth, but there's nothing I can do to take it back."  He turns back toward me slowly, his eyes still carefully avoiding mine.

"No," I finally say.  "No, I should be the one apologizing. I...I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't.  The nuns used to call it 'emotional blockage.'"

"Nuns?"

"Orphanage.  Never mind," he says, stepping closer to me.  "The point is, I probably should have told you.  And I probably shouldn't have said what I said.  I know.  But it's something that can't be fixed.  It's two months we've lost.  Can we leave it at two months?"  I glance away from him for a moment, putting a step of distance between us. 

"First thing's first," I say, winding up quickly and delivering a very therapeutic punch to his jaw.

"Nice right hook," Jonathan coos from the recesses of the cave.  Rick merely grins at me through the grimace.

"Now, we can leave it at two months."  I return the grin as he pulls me in, kissing me hard enough to make me forget these last two months entirely.  "By the way," I asked after I regain my breath.  "What happened to Khepri and Rikes?"  Rick glances over to Ardeth says nothing, merely checks that his sword is properly sheathed.  I know better than to ask again.  There is no need.


End file.
